


Paying Debts

by BugsyPotter



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Horror, One Shot, Other, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22491592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BugsyPotter/pseuds/BugsyPotter
Summary: It had been two hours.You counted each heartbeat.It was hard to ignore the absolute ringing in your ears.Contrasting the claustrophobic silence, your heavy heart and sobs were your only comfort.You were going to die here.
Kudos: 9





	Paying Debts

Your chest felt heavy as your lungs struggled to inhale. The air was tight, hot, and restricting. Sweat covered every pore of your body; sticky and dripping. Your hands hurt, bruised, bloody, and sprained. You were pounding ferociously until recently. Giving up had been a better idea. It was no use. Your nails chipped, pulled back, and wounded fingertips had made absolutely no progress.

It had been two hours.

You counted each heartbeat.

It was hard to ignore the absolute ringing in your ears.

Contrasting the claustrophobic silence, your heavy heart and sobs were your only comfort.

You were going to die here.

You clench your eyes closed once more. With a short, shallow breath, you opened those dry, heavy eyes and absorbed the complete darkness that enveloped you.

This wasn't your fault. How could you have known? You didn't deserve this!

You had thought that Diana was a nice girl. She seemed normal.

You met her at a grocery store, for fucks sake.

How could you be so stupid?

You came from a poor family. They couldn't afford to take care of you anymore. So at nineteen years old, starting an internship three cities away from anyone you had grown up with, you decided to get a part time job as a grocer. You moved into a cheap apartment in a crumby neighborhood, next to a supposed haunted forest.

Diana was a regular customer at "Sunset Outlet." She was one of those meek, tired girls, who always stopped by at around 6am to buy some sort of caffeine and baked good.

Two weeks into the job, you had begun to recognize her. As such, the two of you learned each other's names, exchanged numbers, became friends, and spent time together. Over the next couple months, the two of you had become rather close. Diana was still rather quiet, but she had a no-bullshit aura about her. You knew she would be honest with you. You trusted her with your goals, ideas, secrets, and day to day complaints. She always listened so calm and a bit intensely to each word you spilled.

So one day, as you sat in your dump of an apartment with your friend, complaining about money, Diana had offered to loan you a couple thousand dollars for expenses. At the time, you were shocked. You even protested her attempts. She dropped the subject.

A couple weeks later, you had been irresponsible. You had thought that you had enough hours at work to afford paying your bills in a different order. You saved rent for last. What you didn't foresee at the time, was that you were a couple hundred dollars short.

Begrudgingly, and a little embarrassed, you had to take Diana up on her offer. You had only asked for that couple hundred.

What she gave to you, was about five times that.

You didn't know how to say that it was too much.

She told you that it was for you to get settled. Pay off your student loans, buy groceries, pay your credit card bills, and whatever you didn't use, you could just give back.

In the chaos and glamor of her words, you spent the entire check. You were more than caught up.

And suffice to say, you didn't have the money to pay her back by the end of the month.

The two of you had a falling out. No matter how much you were willing to make payments.

She required the amount in full.

She said it was her father's money. He was very attentive to his money.

He was very keen on punishing people who couldn't pay him back.

At that moment, you realized just how little you knew about Diana and her family.

And when Diana came to your house to announce that she wasn't allowed to be your friend anymore; you didn't understand why.

Never would you have guessed that she couldn't be friends with a dead girl.

Not once in your entire 19 years of life, did you expect that two giant men would break into your shitty home, shove a vomit-smelling pillowcase over your head, and proceed to bury you alive.

As you reflected on the events that lead you to your miserable fate, you could hear a faint scratching noise from above you. It pierced the silence, filling you with both dread and excitement.

You held your breath.

The earth seemed to shake around you.

The thought of this coffin caving in with dirt, crushing you, echoed through your mind.

You could feel a bead of sweat crawl down your neck. The tears seemed to collect again on your waterline. Just when you thought you were empty of all anguish.

The scratching began to get louder.

Closer.

Your heart raced.

It was the sound of a shovel against the terrain.

Were they back?

Your throat felt hoarse.

You were afraid.

Was it best to keep quiet?

Did they make a mistake?

Oh god.

What if they needed to make sure you were dead?

You needed to play this off. First sign of light, and you'd escape.

You could almost anticipate your first breath of fresh air.

You silently pleaded that you could have a chance.

A sudden thump on the coffin's lid pulled you from your thoughts.

Light spilled in through the cracks of the coffin as they wiped dirt away from the seal. You could feel the oxygen infiltrate your cramped box. Your body felt lighter. Your head felt a bit hazy from the cold night air.

As soon as you could blink away the lingering darkness and adjust, the coffin shifted.

Suddenly the lid was off.

You were paralyzed.

You were not expecting to lock eyes with a pair of orange goggles.

You couldn't help but stare at what looked like a...

Teenager?

Shaggy brown hair. Striped mouth guard. Dirt soaked hoodie.

"O-oh," he paused. "This coffin's occupied."

You watched as his body spasmed slightly.

He was lowering the lid again.

Your eyes went wide.

"W-wait!" you croaked.

He stopped his actions.

"Why sh-should I?" he stumbled over his words.

"I..." you looked for something to say. Anything to say. "I'll do anything! Please let me out of this thing!"

You weren't above pleading out loud at this moment. This guy didn't know you or your situation. Maybe if you did him a favor, he'd be kind?

The boy put a dirty, bloodstained, gloved hand to his head and scratched it.

"I don't know," he twitched. "I could g-get in a lot of trouble."

"Please... sir," you almost cut him off with your intensity.

"I guess I could use the coffin." He began to climb out of the grave. "Y-you being in there kind of w-wasted my time."

You hesitantly began to climb out too.

Wow, your entire body was on fire from struggling so much.

"I'm short-handed," the boy mumbled. "S-solo mission." He dusted himself as you popped your head over the dirt mound. "H-hurry up and grab the legs."

You paused, looking over to where the boy was going. What did he mean 'grab the legs?'

Then it hit you.

You had spotted it.

That was a dead body.

It was wrapped in some kind of curtain, but there was no mistaking.

The blood stains gave it away.

You let out a loud gasp. You were hesitating and losing your composure.

You'd never seen a dead body, let alone touched one.

"Don't make me put you back in the ground," the boy was an inch away from your face, out of nowhere. You could see the rage in his eyes, even through the goggles.

All the fire in your body was replaced with ice.

"I'm so sorry!" you panicked, looking to the ground immediately.

The boy pulled his face guard down, revealing scars along half of his mouth. It looked like he had been biting at his cheek and lips too hard.

The scars stretched and crinkled as he pulled that side of his face into a slow smirk.

"Don't apologize," he laughed a little. "Thank me instead!" his smirk transformed into a wide smile. All traces of anger had disappeared.

You tried to keep up with his emotions.

Something about that smile seemed so genuine though.

You felt strange.

It reminded you of being home, surrounded by people you loved.

"Thank you..." you spoke softly, watching him get to work.

"You're welcome! Now grab the legs. We don't want to be here all night, do we?" he laughed.

You laughed a little too. All the stress, tension, fear, anxiety, pain, loneliness, and gut-wrenching sorrow seemed to slowly seep out of you—like sap dripping out of a tree. He was a bit of a rollercoaster with his demeanor, but everything he said seemed to be honest.

Grabbing the legs and swinging the body into that grave was actually easier than you expected. Especially since you weren't worried about hurting the thing.

It was sick, and your moral compass screamed at you from the back of your mind. You tried so hard not to think of the consequences though.

This was the deal. Die, or help this man commit a crime.

You would choose the latter again in a heartbeat.

"Grab a shovel. We aren't done, silly," the boy threw a little bit of dirt at you, playfully.

You were obedient, but your movements were still a bit stiff.

"What's your name?" you inquired as the silence mixed in with the sound of crisp digging.

"Ah, n-no information for free, missy," he spoke with exuberance. "Of-ffering is more polite."

"Oh..." you paused. This was a stupid interaction. He was going to use a fake name anyway. He was committing a crime. As soon as he let you go, he would expect you to rat on him.

Or was he going to kill you afterward...?

Your heart skipped a beat.

He was expecting an answer.

You initiated this.

"Uh," you stuttered. "(Y/N)."

Way to go, idiot. Couldn't think of anything clever?

"Th-that's more like it," the boy laughed. "I'm T-toby. My friends call m-me, Ticci Toby."

What a weird name to make up on the spot.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out the first thing you thought. "Is that your real name or a fake one?"

He stopped shoveling dirt onto the grave for a moment, touching his chin.

"Huh," he looked into the sky reflectively. "Ya know, I probably should have given you a fake name. That sounds a lot smarter."

You stopped and stared at him.

You couldn't help yourself. You started laughing like a maniac.

This guy was ridiculous.

He laughed too.

And for a moment, you felt normal.

Unfortunately, the moment had to be cut short as the sound of police sirens wailed in the near distance. Toby tensed immediately, shoveling as much dirt into the hole as he could before throwing the shovel in too.

You stopped and thought about everything as fast as you could.

What would happen if they saw you with this corpse? What if your story didn't add up? What if the mob put you in jail by turning your words against you? What if the cops didn't believe you? What about the boy? Should you mention him? What should you do?

Quickly.

Make a decision!

\---

Diana paced nervously, back and forth in the police station. She had a change of heart when it came to her father's advice. This was her first real friend after all. Maybe she had been too pushy. Too harsh?

It had been several hours since the police had found anything.

Her anonymous tip had been received well.

She couldn't snitch on her father after all. Not that the cops weren't in his back pocket anyway. She could have probably been straight forward.

She had refused to sit until an officer had took her into his office to explain the situation.

They had, indeed, found someone in that unmarked grave.

The body had been deceased.

A Ms. Jane Doe.

No fingerprints or dental records.

No head.

For the first time in Diana's life that night, she had cried over a human being.

\---

"Welcome t-to the getaway parade!" Toby exclaimed through ragged breaths.

You didn't actually know what to do. All you knew was that you didn't want to go back.

So there you were, running with a psychotic bi-polar kid named "Ticci Toby," into the supposed haunted forest.

You hoped with all your heart that this would work out in the end.

At least you were alive.


End file.
